


Laying Pipe Rewrite

by JadenotherGems



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 09:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1774858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadenotherGems/pseuds/JadenotherGems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite of Laying Pipe from a contest. Opie lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laying Pipe Rewrite

Laying Pipe  
  
  


“Damon Pope wants one of us dead.” Jax told his friends.

  
“Me.” Tig was sure it was his final retribution for killing Pope’s daughter.

  
“No, he wants you alive and on the inside. Forever.” Jax had never felt so trapped, so helpless as he did now. He could not choose one of his brothers, his friends to die. There was only one choice. He would be the one.

  
“Oh, all right, so how we were handling this, Jackie?” Chibs asked.

  
“I don’t give a shit who Pope is, or how deep his reach is. He doesn’t make that call. We decide our fate.” And by that, Jax meant he was the one going down. He could not choose one of his men to be slaughtered for Clay’s arrogance, Tig’s stupidity, or the guard’s sport.

  
The Sergeant walked into the small holding cell and started to talk. Before he could get a full word out, Opie lunged forward head butting the guard. Jax jumped in order to save his friend. Within seconds all four of the sons were in the brawl. It didn’t take long for the guards to gain the upper hand. They made sure the Sons paid.

  
“Now that you got that out of your system, seems you boys got a reprieve.” A bruised and battered Opie, Chibs, and Tig are led back to their cells.  
“Pope wants to see you Teller.” Puzzled Jax was led away.

  
“What’s going on?”

  
“Mr. Teller, it is not often that I make changes to my deals. However, I have been convinced to let you four live. The rest of our deal still stands, including you handing over Mr. Trager to me when he has served your purpose.”

  
Jax just sat there staring at Pope for a while, “So, are we going to be released?”

  
“You will be out by tomorrow morning," leaning back in the warden's chair Pope brushed some unseen dirt from his tailored suit.

  
“All of us?” Jax knew there had to be some catch somewhere.

  
“Yes, as long as all parts of the deal are up held you, and your friends will have no problem with me.”  
“Can I call my wife and let her know?”

  
“Of course.”

  
Jax called Tara and told her that he was getting out and to let everyone else know too. When he hung the phone up, the guard started to take him back to his cell. He remembered what Pope had said earlier.

  
“Who did it?”

  
“What’s that?”

  
“Who convinced you, and how did they do it. You don’t do anything without a return. Why are you letting us out? Who convinced you and what did they do?”  
“The 'Who' wishes to remain anonymous for now. The 'what' is martyrdom.”

  
“What?” panic choking out the word, “No, they can’t. I’m the president. I make the choices. You can’t do this.”

  
“It’s already done Mr. Teller.” Damon Pope made a shooing motion with his hands indicating to the guard he was done with conversation. Pushing himself off the warden’s desk, he dusted his hands off. He needed to get out of this place.

  
Outside August Marks was waiting for him, “Is everything in place?” queried Pope.

  
“It’s all set. As soon as they reach Teller-Morrow.” Marks held the door of the limo open. “Do you think we need to post some of the Niner’s at the garage in case…?”  
Pope waved him off, “Everything will be handled according to the deal. I have no doubt.”

* * *

  
“What up, Prez?” Opie was a concerned about the look on his friends face when he returned.

  
“Pope says we’re out tomorrow. All of us.”

  
Uneasiness settled in the big man’s stomach while he waited for Jax to go on.  
“Everything else about the deal still holds.”

  
“Cut the bullshit Jax. Remember when I told you that a lie of omission was still a lie and you suck at it? Get to the point.”

  
“Pope said someone else martyred themselves for us.”

  
“What? Who?”

  
“He wouldn’t say. I don’t know anyone else who could have known or how they would have found out.”

  
“Well we know it’s not Clay, that selfish bastard only cares about himself.” Opie spat Clay’s name like it was a poison on his tongue.

  
“That leaves Bobby, Happy and Juice.” Jax and Opie mulled things over during a sleepless night.

  
While the rest of the prisoners were eating breakfast, the four Sons of Anarchy Brothers were signing for their possessions. There had been a short period of time when Jax could brief the rest of the group on what Pope had said.

  
When they walked out of the prison, Juice was waiting with the SAMCRO van. Jax ticked off one of his crew as safe.

  
“How are the rest of the guys?” his voice sounding a little too high to him.

  
“Good. Bobby’s planning your welcome home party.” Juice laughed, “Happy is well you know, ready to kick someone's ass.”

  
The four released a long sigh of relief, but if it wasn’t one of the Sons, who was it?

  
“Everyone else doing fine Juicy?” Chibs fished for more information.

  
“Yeah seems to be.” Juice was getting a little confused by all the questions, “Something wrong?”

  
“Not sure. Just think Juice was anyone acting strange today?” Opie toyed with his beard.

  
“I guess Unser was. He seemed a little squirrely. I just figured it was because Gemma wasn’t home again. She wouldn’t answer the phone either. I just figured that he, uh, you know, was jealous, her seeing Nero and all.”

  
“Have you seen him today?” Jax twisted his rings around.

  
“For a few minutes. He said he had some things to take care of.”

  
A heavy silence fell over the van for the rest of the ride from Stockton.

* * *

 

When they arrived at Teller-Morrow, the freshly released brothers were greeted with cheers and hollers. Gemma had a bunch of food set up already, and the barbeque was running.

  
“Bobby!” shouted Chibs as he gave him a biker hug.

  
“Church in 20 minutes,” Jax yelled over the din. “Hey baby, how’s it going?” he pulled Tara in for a kiss.

  
She tried to be mad at him, but she was so relieved that he was out and safe she gave in, “I’m fine. What’s with all the bruises?”

  
“Nothing. Just a little misunderstanding with the guards.” He offered his most charming smile, “and how are my boys today?”

  
Tara handed Thomas over to him. They walked over to the picnic bench so Abel could sit next to Dad. “I love you Tara, you know that don’t you?”

  
She sighed, “I love you too, Jax.”

  
The king looked around the lot, “Where’s Mom?”

  
Tara snorted, “In her office sulking. I think. We got into again.”

  
“Do I want to know?” wondering how Tara got the better of his mother in an argument.

  
“It was little things. She was partly right. If you tell her that Jackson, I swear I will run you over or something.”

  
“All right. What happened?” he laughed.

  
“When she got here today, I yelled at her for not answering her phone. Lecturing her. What if had been an emergency? How irresponsible it was and so on. She told me that first of all, she was plenty old enough not to have to check in with someone. Secondly, I keep telling her I want to her to back off. It doesn’t mean when it’s convenient. Make up my mind. Either I want her to step back, or I don’t. Second thing was she showed up with a bunch of hickeys on her neck. I lectured her about that. She again informed me that she was an adult and could do what she wanted. I told her that if she was going to be around the boys she had to have a scarf on.”

  
Jax busted out laughing, “I’m sorry Babe. I would have paid money to see you tell her to put the scarf on. I’ll go see what she is up to.”

  
 He gave a cursory  knock as he entered, “Hey Ma thought you’d be out to welcome us home.”

  
“I figured I should keep a low profile for a while,” Gemma kept her back to him.

  
Jax could see a scarf lying on the couch, “Come on. I already know what happened. You might as well turn around.”

  
Gemma put down her pen and took off her glasses before slowly standing up and facing her son.

  
“Holy shit, Mom. You thought about getting him a chew toy?”

  
“I don’t need a lecture from you. I already heard it from your wife. Besides he was the one with the bite mark.” Jax raised his eyebrows.

  
Gemma went over and hugged him, “I am glad you’re safe baby.”

  
“Hey Jackie, Church.” Chibs was knocked further into the office by Opie and Tig. The Scotsman cocked his head to one side.

  
“Damn Gemma.” Tig stared.

  
“Mom…” Opie started.

  
“Shut up, all of you, right now. I mean it.” She shook her finger at them, “Shoo, get out of my office and get to your meeting.”

  
Jax turned as he was leaving, “Hey Mom, you see Wayne today?”

  
“Yeah he stopped by for a bit. Why?”

  
“Did he seem alright to you?”

  
“No, not really, I tried to talk to him, but he blew me off. What’s going on Jax? He all right isn’t he?” concern tainted her voice.

  
“Yeah, I’m sure everything is fine.” He kissed her cheek and headed for Church.

  
Gemma absently chewed on the end of thumb as she watched her son walk into the clubhouse.

* * *

 

  
“It has to be him. It makes sense. He is terminally ill. He would have the connections to find out what was going on. He was Chief of Police here for how long.” Opie reasoned.

  
“And he would do just about anything if he thought it would keep your mother from being hurt.” Tig added.

  
“I agree Jackie. It has to be Wayne that traded himself for us.”

  
“Tig, while I brief everybody here as much as I can, I want you to try to get hold of Unser. Check around town too.”

  
Tig tried Wayne’s phone several times before it started to go directly into voicemail. He was unable to find him around town either. When he pulled back not the lot, Jax, Opie and Chibs rushed over.

  
The curly haired biker shook his head, “He shut his phone off after I called a few times. I couldn’t find his truck or his cancerous ass anywhere.”  
“I’m calling Pope. I can’t let this go down.”

  
“It’s probably already too late Jax.” Tig voiced what they were already feeling.

  
“Aaargh.” Jax growled out in frustration. This was club business. A result of a club fuck up. There was no reason for collateral damage. No one outside should have got hurt.

  
“Hey Jax.” Opie smacked him his chest with his arm. He looked up to see a tired looking Unser pulling into the lot.

  
“Where you been man?” Tig pulled Wayne in for a hug. The others surrounded him patting him on the back.

  
“Maybe I need to go into Stockton more often.” Wayne was confused.

  
“Stockton, what the hell were you doing in Stockton?” Chibs pushed him towards the food.

  
“Running errands. Which reminds me, I need to talk to Gemma.”

  
“Why Gemma?” Opie sat down next to Lyla with a heaping plateful of food. He had reevaluated things after nearly being a sacrificial lamb. He was going to give it another try with her. He was going to move on from Donna.

  
“She’s the one who sent me on this wild goose chase today. I was supposed to pick up some special order at this nursery in Stockton. They didn’t even have a record of the order being placed for her.”

  
Chibs spoke up, “Why would she send you to Stockton for plants when Rita Roosevelt will get anything for her.

  
Jax looked around the lot. Gemma’s Caddy was there. He ran for her office. It was empty. Her purse sat on the desk. Everything was straightened up and filed. Suddenly, the air felt too thick and heavy. His chest constricted. He needed to ask more questions, but he couldn’t find his voice.

  
Jax took out his phone and stabbed the keys. The phone in Wayne’s pocket rang. He pulled it out. The caller ID said Jax. “I have Gemma’s phone? Why would she switch me phones? What’s going on son?”

  
They decided to let Wayne in on the little secret, “Oh shit, we need to find her.”

  
“No, no, no.” Tig started to back up, “Gemma no.”

  
“Shit, how could she know? Shit. This is his fault. It all started with him.” Opie roared jabbing in Clay’s direction.

  
“Come on now guys. We don’t know anything for sure, right Jackie? We thought Old Wayne here was the one.” Chibs was trying to convince himself.

  
By now, Clay had seen the meeting, and noticed he seemed to be a part of what was going. Tara came up from the other side to see why the guys were so upset.

  
“Jax, what’s going on?” Tara nervously bounced Thomas up and down.

  
Before anyone could answer, Jax’s phone rang. He put it on speaker as he answered, “Mom?”

  
“You know Mr. Teller; I am not a man who deals in remorse or regret. However, I am sorry about this one.” Damon Pope’s voice held none of the characteristic self-righteousness it normally did.

  
“Tell me it’s not her.” Jax’s mind spiraled into denial.

  
“You already know it is son. She had paid off someone in my organization to find out how you were. She came to me, parent to parent to deal for your life, knowing you would try to be the hero. I told her that I didn’t deal with outsiders. Gemma is a very persuasive person. She even told me I had Carte Blanche over how she died. I would have liked to have talked to her more. She was an interesting woman.”

  
“Where is she, you son of a bitch.”

  
“I took her home. It was the least I could do for her Mr. Teller.” Jax dropped the phone and ran for his bike. The lot was empty in a matter of moments.

* * *

  
After everyone had left her office Gemma sat down for a moment and collected herself. She had confirmation that Jax was safe. That was all that she asked for from Pope. If he had not fulfilled his end of the deal, she knew what to tell the ER to give her to counter-act what Pope had injected her with. Standing up she swayed slightly. Taking a quick check out her door she made sure everyone was occupied, before sneaking off the lot. Damon Pope’s limousine was waiting down the block for her.

  
“I didn’t expect to see you.” Gemma said flatly when she saw Pope in the limo.

  
“Ma’am…” Gemma raised an eyebrow at him. Not even this man was going to get away with calling her Ma’am, especially not now.

  
“Gemma,” he nodded tenting his fingers in front of him, “My policy is to stay out of things that may soil my image in the community. That is why I surround myself with the people I do. They handle the shit I do not want to.”

  
The heaviness in Gemma’s chest had been growing steadily. It felt like a band tightening around her lungs keeping them from expanding all the way; and every time she exhaled it tightened a little more. She tried to draw in a deep breath through her mouth making her cough. August Marks handed over some Kleenex. When the cough settled blood had soaked the tissue.

  
“Debt paid,” thought Gemma when she saw it.

  
Pope almost looked a little pained as he watched her. Maybe she imagined it. “As I was saying, Gemma, I consider it a matter of respect that I should be here right now. I also thought you could have a little peace as you go out.” The limo pulls into her driveway.

  
“Home? You brought me home? I don’t understand?” This is certainly not the ruthless organized-crime boss that burned Tig’s daughter alive in front of him.  
“You are a parent who came to me, begging for your child’s life. You don’t strike me as a person who begs for anything. You offered your life for his. As a parent, I can relate to that. I would give anything to have traded places with my Veronica. To give her, her life back. I told you it was a matter of respect.”

  
Marks aided Gemma into the house. “Nice,” Pope looked around appreciatively, “I like a little more modern styling rather than the gothic, but it’s comfortable.”

  
“Not that I am trying to be rude, actually I don’t care, but are you just going to hang out at my house until this shit finishes whatever it is that it’s supposed to do?” She had to take in air every couple of words now. She also noticed her nose had started to bleed.

  
“No, you are lasting quite a while. I figured you would be a lot farther along than this by now. I’m sure they are starting to put things together at the garage also. Is there anything you would like me to do for you?”

  
Gemma thought for a second before taking out the phone she had switched with Wayne. She typed in a message and handed it to Pope, “Send this in a little while.”

  
“One regret?” asked Pope.

  
Gemma shrugged, “Bad timing I guess. What can you do?”

  
“Okay, I will send it.” He nodded to Marks. Gemma felt an arm wrap tightly around her, and a sting where her neck and shoulder meet. “It’s just something to speed things up. I’d tell you not to fight it, but I know that’s just not who you are.”

* * *

  
Motorcycles and vehicles of all kinds stormed up to Gemma’s house. Bodies flooded the house. If their entrance could have been seen from above it would have looked like a damn beginning to break. First, it was Jax and Opie, followed quickly by Chibs, Bobby, Tig, and Tara carrying her medical bag. The flow of people just increased.

  
“Mom!” Jax could feel dread sitting like a cold stone in his gut. He had been there. Jax could smell the scent of expensive cigars in the air. Pope had been there. He checked his mother’s room. Empty.

  
“Gemma!” Opie checked one of the back bedrooms while Chibs checked the other.

  
“Anything Chibs?” Opie called. “Did you find her?” he walked into the other room. Chibs was kneeling by the bed smoothing his hand over Gemma’s hair.  
“Tara! Jax! Nursery!” Opie yelled out.

  
Chibs shook his head as he pushed himself up, “She’s gone.”

  
“No! Tara, she can help her.” Opie pushed the Scotsman aside.

  
“She’s gone boy.” Chibs stared at the carpet not really seeing anything.

  
Opie sat in the near-by rocking chair and buried his face in the palms of his hands when he saw Gemma lifeless form.

  
Tara ran in. Professional detachment she told herself. She is just another patient. Despite all the fighting, there was still a bond that had formed between the two of them. This was also her husband’s mother. Her legs shook underneath her as she walked over to the bed. Tara could tell just by looking that nothing could be done. Gemma had blood coming from her mouth, nose and eyes. Her skin was pale with a bluish tint to. Her lips were dusky. When she checked for a pulse Gemma’s skin was already cool to the touch. It took some time before she could meet her husband’s eyes. The only thing she could manage was shaking her head no. Somewhere she vaguely heard Lyla start to cry.

  
“No man. Gemma, Jesus no. I’m so sorry. Please Gemma. Not you. Gemma! Dammit, what the hell were you thinking?” Tig paced around the bed running his hands through his hair. He would reach out and almost touch her then pull back afraid because to touch her meant saying good-bye.

  
“Tig, man, come on let’s get you…” Happy tried to get him out of the room.

  
“Get your God damn hands off me!” Finally Happy held him while Tara sedated Tig. He didn’t go completely out so they just let him sit in the corner.

  
Jax sat on the edge of the bed. Gemma had been laid out on the bed like she was posed for them. Her head rested on the squarely on the pillow. Her hair was arranged neatly. Her hands rested on her stomach. In them, she held a picture. He picked it up. It was of him and the boys. No one would have known that there was anything wrong except for the blood. The trail that ran from the corner of her eyes that looked like tears, bloody evidence of her sacrifice. Maybe they were at the end. Jax took his mother's hand, hardly registering the cold, and pressed it to his face as he rocked back and forth slightly, “You didn’t even let me say good-bye. Why didn’t you at least let me say good-bye?”

  
Something inside Wayne Unser shattered when he saw Gemma’s body. She was his best friend since childhood. He loved her, was in love with her. He trudged on battling his cancer after Della left him because of Gemma. She checked on him. She listened to him when he was upset about losing Chief. She was his shoulder when the cancer treatments and the thought of fighting anymore got too much. He was mad at her. He was feeling used when she asked him to help clean up after Piney’s death. Then to walk in and find her beaten so badly, he was angry again. She was seeing someone. Not even someone in the Club. That he could have understood. Except now, maybe he understands her looking outside the Club. Look where it got her. She was raped, framed for murder by a crooked Fed, beaten, and now…she’s dead. He promised her once he would never let anything bad happen to her again. What a miserable failure he was at that. Wayne walked out into the dining room and sat down at the long table. Who was going to take care of her bird? He simply laid his head in his arms and let his heart break.

  
Bobby turned to the one thing, besides his special baked goods that gave him comfort when he was upset, music. He hummed through parts of several Presley songs until he hit In the Ghetto. He stopped. It was Gemma’s favorite. If he ever did Elvis for a Club event he knew he had to sing that for her or he would be in deep shit.

  
Juice was sitting numbly on the front porch step. He couldn’t allow himself any more than the brief glance he saw of Gemma. He could believe that she was sleeping that way. She was a mother to him. A real mother, not like the one he had. She could be stern, but when he needed it, she would listen too. She is just asleep his brain reiterated. Soon everyone will come down and say everything is all right. Too many people gone, too many burials. He was not letting go of Gemma.

  
Clay shoved his way into the room. He could feel the dark pall that hung over the room. Chibs was sitting with his back against a wall muttering in Gaelic. A prayer most likely. Lyla was trying to comfort Opie, who was still sitting with his head buried in his hands. Bobby was propped up by his arm against the wall near Chibs.

  
Tig looked feral in the corner of the room rambling on, “Not you Gem baby, anyone else. Just kill me. I can’t do this anymore.”

  
Jax was still sitting on the bed holding Gemma’s hand to his face. Tara stood behind him rubbing his back.

  
Nervously walking to the end of the bed, Clay saw his wife’s corpse. “Gemma? W-what happened?” He reached out and touched her leg. Even through the denim of her jeans he could feel the cold, “No Gemma. I need you. Please don’t go. I can’t live without you." Clay sank to the floor unable to hold himself up.

  
“Get up.” Opie grabbed him up and drug him over to where Jax was sitting, “Take a good look ‘cause this is your fault. You started this. If you had told the truth about my old man and what had happened between us, your little psycho pit bull over there wouldn’t have gone out seeking revenge. You killed Gemma.”

  
“Pope did this?” Clay struggled for breath.

  
“Yeah Pope did this.” Jax snarled in his face, “Supposed to be one of the four of us that got arrested yesterday. Mom traded herself for us. All because you killed Piney. Opie shot you in revenge. You decided to blame it on Black. Tig went off and got revenge.”

  
“Clay that true?” Tig snapped out of his fugue state, “You lied. I did what I did based on a lie? Now Gemma’s dead?”

  
The only pain that came close to what Clay was feeling now was when Gemma made her confession to him. His greed, his lust for power, and his distrust of everyone, including her led to his wife’s death. Clay’s face crumpled. He was finally fully aware of the horrible repercussions of his actions.

  
Tig lunged for him. He didn’t even try to fight back, nor did anyone try to stop the fight. However, it didn’t take long for Tig to give up on beating the former president. It wasn’t worth the effort, and it wasn’t helping him to feel better. It didn’t change the fact that it was still his fault too. He loved Gemma, as a good friend and sometimes more.

  
“We need to call someone Jax.” Tara pulled him into a hug, her voice almost a whisper. She didn’t realize she was crying until she saw tears on her husband’s cut.

  
Jax caught sight of a large shadow looming in the doorway. “She sent me a text. Said she was sorry but she had to. I came here to find out what she meant.” Nero Padilla stared over at the bed, “She’s…she’s dead?”

  
“Yeah,” Jax leaned his forehead against Tara’s not knowing what else to say.

  
“You think it would be okay if I uh,” Nero scrubbed his hand through his hair.

  
Clay started to open his mouth. “Don’t even think you are going to say a word. You lost that right when you beat the hell out of her.” Opie warned. He indicated for Nero to go over.

“I’m sorry Mama.” He gently caressed her cheek. Nero couldn’t explain how, but in the short time they had known each other he had fallen for Gemma. This was a devastating blow for him. “Dios te salve Maria. Llena eres de gracia El Señor es contigo bendita eres entre todas las mujeres bendito es el fruto de tu vientre Jesus. Santa Maria Madre de Dios ruega por nosotros los pecadores ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amen.” He kissed her forehead, nodding to Jax as he left.

* * *

 

  
Roosevelt had asked the questions he felt appropriate, filed the rest away for later. He went straight home to let his wife know. He never understood Rita’s unique friendship with Gemma, but didn’t want her accidentally hearing it somewhere else. When they found out they were pregnant, he thought it was odd that she told Gemma after she told him. He held his wife while she cried. When their baby girl was born her name was Gemma Autumn Roosevelt.

  
The coroner’s wagon left. Gemma’s house was closed and locked. Skeeter was notified. He promised he would take special care of her. Other charters were called. Uncle Jury promised a full showing from his boys.

  
They would find out later that Gemma died from a combination of venom from a Boomslang snake and Dimethyl sulfoxide. The venom causes hemorrhaging by breaking down membranes and other blood barriers. The Dimethyl sulfoxide speeds it up. Tara never told them that Gemma drowned in her own blood.

  
Nero sat alone in his room holding onto a shirt Gemma had left behind. The scent of her perfume still lingered when he held it up to his nose, “Scars of a feather.” He whispered into the emptiness of the room.

  
Back at the garage, Chucky found Gemma’s reading glasses. He quietly slipped them into his pocket. Unser and the Sons returned to the Clubhouse. They each found themselves in different places on the lot. Too broken, too pained to seek solace in each other. One of the Croweaters went over to shut the door to Gemma’s office; the dark gaping maw too much of a reminder of what was lost today. It was in the twilight of the day, when faces turned to silhouettes, the men who would be boys wept for their mother, their friend, their wife, their lover. The Matriarch of SAMCRO was gone.


End file.
